You do not believe me. ” She said wistfully. That turned her mind to the more generalized aspects of her perplexities again. I was just like a sort of dummy that does things as it is told—that is to say, as the strings are pulled. Have you ever heard the name of Meysey Hill?” “Meysey Hill?” He repeated it after her, and she knew at once from his tone and his quick glance into her face that the name possessed some significance for him. He wore a silk hat a little tilted, and a morning coat buttoned round a tight, contained figure; and a white slip gave a finish to his costume and endorsed the quiet distinction of his tie. I can’t stand it. “And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. She looked away.
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